


Here and Then

by Teland



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Blow Jobs, Krycek Is A Distinctly Unpleasant Person, M/M, Mulder Still Wants To Fuck Him, Seduction, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-10-24
Updated: 1998-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-09 18:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20999165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: Hot days and conversation.





	Here and Then

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the Spike for beta!

Another stakeout.

There couldn't possibly be anything worse than being stuck   
in a car for six hours with Junior G-Man the Gregarious. If   
Mulder had to listen to *one* more wholesome anecdote about   
life in northern Florida...

"... and then Mom really wanted me to take Susie to the   
prom, but..."

Alex Krycek was going to have to die.

"... she *never* fixed her hair right, and let me tell you   
right now, Mulder, a five foot two inch woman has no right   
to size 11 shoes..."

Alex Krycek was going to die slow, and painful. 

"... And disco was *dead* by then, even in Florida. But did   
Susie care? Nooo...."

//Loooove... love to love you, baby...//

"... And besides, I really wanted to go with..."

And Mulder was going to enjoy every second of the   
punishment.

"... now *he* was fucking hot. Long, long legs, washboard   
abs--"

"What?!"

Alex blinked at him innocently. "Hmmm...?"

"What did you just say, Krycek?"

"You could call me Alex, you know."

"What... Alex, what were you saying?"

"Oh, I was just talking about the prom... and Michael..."   
Bland tones. Tones that make a man long, desperately, to   
pull a gun.

"Michael."

"Um-hmm..." Alex took a pull on his Caffeine Free Diet Coke 

//Slogan: What's the point?//

and leaned back in his seat. "I didn't think you were   
really interested..."

Mulder could use the opportunity to interrogate the   
annoying little punk, but the use of the word interest   
couldn't possibly be coincidental. He'd have to play this   
carefully. 

"Well, Alex..." Mulder took a moment to steal a furtive   
glance at his new -- God help him -- partner. Caught the   
sour twist to the mouth with some measure of satisfaction.   
He'd put just enough stress on the name to make it clear he   
was mocking. Perfect. "There's nothing going on, the radio   
doesn't work, and I think you've exhausted the anecdotal   
capabilities of Bigfoot Susie. Tell me about Michael."

//You vill tell us everythink. Ve haf vays...//

Alex shot him an unreadable glance from beneath his lashes.   
"Well, if you'd really like to know..."

//Punk. Ass. Son. Of. A. Bitch.//

"Talk or don't talk. I think there's some cold calzone in   
the back if you really need *something* to do with your   
mouth." 

Alex heaved a truly impressive sigh. For a moment Mulder   
thought of Scully, then felt his stomach clench -- it was   
entirely possible the other man would use this opportunity   
for yet another lecture on Bureau policy and proper   
workplace behavior. 

//Please, God, no...//

But Alex merely smirked -- an oddly natural expression on   
the blandly pretty face -- and let forth.

"Michael was a year younger than me. A junior. Transfer   
student from somewhere up North..."

Mulder could detect the faint traces of a crushed accent   
and a part of his mind began replaying favorite scenes from   
Deliverance.

"... never took well to the sun." A smile in the voice.   
"Burn and peel, burn and peel... he finally took up all   
indoor sports so Mr. Carlson couldn't send him back into   
the sun anymore."

Mulder caught himself feeling a little impatient, but he   
was *almost* positive Alex couldn't know how much of a   
pervert he really was. Yet. Best to play it safe.

"So he wound up on the basketball team. We sucked, Mulder -  
\- countywide -- but hell, we were tall, and the shorts were   
comfortable."

Mulder nodded. He'd always liked the way that satin felt on   
his ass, on his cock. Not that you could go commando during   
an actual *game*, but there were other times...

"So, anyway, we got to be friends. There's no fucking way I   
would've passed calculus without Michael, and I kept him   
from getting his ass kicked a lot. Managed to keep the ass   
kickings down to once or twice a week. Michael was a city   
boy, you know?"

Duelling banjos played merrily in Mulder's mind. 

"When we started fucking it was kind of a shock. I mean,   
sure, I noticed what a sweet little ass he had, but I was   
just a kid..."

Mulder blinked, did his best to actually *swallow* his iced   
tea, nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging yet mostly   
un-prurient way.

"... over at his Mom's house one night, studying for a   
midterm. Mrs. Golden was a waitress at this truck-stop,   
working nights for a while. Never did find out where his   
Dad was... Anyway, he's doing his best to explain   
integration to me, I was doing my best to piss him off with   
the absolute *worst* racist jokes I could think of."

//You really are a prick. My fucking God, how did I wind up   
with you?//

"... starting to work. He slammed his book closed, told me   
to get the fuck out. It occurred to me that I might have   
gone too far."

Another smirk, a black little laugh. Mulder felt his   
stomach twist again.

"So I started apologizin', telling him I was just kiddin'   
and all..."

The accent was getting thicker. Mulder had the distinct   
impression that he was trapped in a small vehicle with an   
exceedingly dangerous animal.

"... *really* upset. His eyes... they were really dark   
brown. Almost black. I think he maybe had some Indian blood   
somewhere in his past. Anyway, his eyes were all bright   
like he was gonna start bawlin' any minute. Couldn't have   
that."

"No, of course not." Mulder was abruptly convinced that the   
dreamy horror in his voice was bell-clear to his companion. 

"Damn right. So I took him by the shoulders -- still a bit   
bony, he was only 16 -- and made him look me in the eyes.   
Asked him what was really botherin' him."

"Which was?"

"Oh, he went off on this whole long rant about what stupid,   
bigoted fucks we all were, and how much he wanted to go   
back home to... to Vermont, yeah, that's where he was from.   
I thought about bringin' up how easy it was to be liberal   
and open-minded in a state so lily-white it had a fuckin'   
*glare*, but decided against it. He really was worked up."

"Of course." There was a sort of fascination to this,   
really. The gleeful pathology of a... of a what? Mulder   
couldn't say for sure. He had an image of himself staying   
up nights prying apart the nasty little puzzle Alex Krycek   
was turning out to be.

"... said, 'It's because you're queer isn't it? Gay, I   
mean.' He stiffened under my hands. I could feel it. Like   
he wasn't sure whether to try to hit me or run away."

//Probably should've run. Poor bastard.//

"I smiled at him, then. Gentle-like. Slid my hands down his   
arms... he had all these wiry muscles and they kept jumping   
and bunching... He asked me what the fuck I was doing.   
Hell, I didn't know. I know I was blushing... but it was   
dark in that foyer."

"I take it he didn't hit you."

A snort. "Well... it was still a distinct possibility.   
Right up until I grabbed his ass and pulled him against me.   
He was rock hard, Mulder, I tell no lie. Before I started   
thinkin' again I kissed him hard. Like I was kissin' a   
woman. Like I was gonna flip him into the back seat of my   
Chrysler and use him in the middle of the double feature."

//Why do I get the feeling his seduction techniques haven't   
improved in the intervening years?//

"... strugglin' a little bit, but I knew he wanted it. I   
started thinkin' about how he always kinda hung around   
after practice. Those too-long looks in the locker room.   
Hell, no wonder he was always gettin' his ass beat down. I   
ground against him. I was startin' to get a little hard   
myself--"

"Just a little?"

//Pig. Fucking pig.//

Dark little chuckle. "Well, maybe more than a little. But   
it felt... it felt damn good, Mulder. And he tasted good,   
too. Potato chips and sugary soda and this hot little   
tongue trying to whip around my mouth... I wanted him to   
suck me, right then and there. I wanted him on his knees on   
his mama's neat little runners and I wanted his mouth on my   
cock. Maybe even needed it."

"Maybe?"

"Oh, fuck off, Mulder. If you ever kissed that boy, you'd   
need it, too."

Mulder heard himself start to laugh and stifled it as   
quickly as possible. But he knew Alex heard it anyway.

"I told him what I wanted. Promised to get him off, too, if   
he just sucked me. He *moaned*. Right into my mouth and   
started shakin'. I told him it was all right. Told him I   
wanted it just as badly. Whispered all sorts of bullshit in   
his ear... but I wasn't lyin' about his ass. I knew I was   
gonna have that, too, someday."

"Confident sonofabitch, weren't you?"

Alex looked at him for a moment, made a briefly frustrated   
gesture with his left hand, and Mulder wondered if he was   
ever a smoker. 

"Well, Mulder..." And the accent had died, just like that.   
" When's the last time *you* had a pretty little boy   
shaking in your arms? When's the last time someone dropped   
to their knees in front of those expensive slacks of yours?   
Fumbled with the zipper until he could pull you out --   
thick and hard and dripping?"

Mulder tensed in his seat, ruthlessly beating back the urge   
to squirm under the ophidian stare of his partner. "This   
isn't about me, Alex."

"Isn't it? No matter. Michael knew how to suck cock. Took   
me deep without another word and then dropped his hands to   
his sides. Permission like that doesn't come *every* day, I   
grabbed his head and fucked his mouth. Too hard, but he   
just took it and moaned some more, spit running out of the   
side of his mouth, eyes shut *tight* -- it was over fast,   
and I nearly fell down afterwards."

Mulder felt the bulge in his shorts, but couldn't work up   
any more horror than he already felt. He decided to work on   
self-disgust.

"... sort of led me back to his bedroom. He kissed me, and   
the taste of myself on those swollen lips made me twitch. I   
wound up jerking him off. My mouth on his. Swallowing his   
cries. Couldn't really call them screams... too breathless   
and low. Michael was damned sexy."

"And you just... you just kept on after that?"

"Every chance we got. I have to give him credit. He never   
got all lovey on me. We were buddies who happened to do a   
lot of fucking. I could respect that."

//Good for fucking you. Jesus.//

"And yet you wanted to take him to the prom?"

Alex snickered. "Are you fucking kidding me? We would've   
been lynched. I was just trying to... get your attention." 

A pause, and Alex turned in his seat. Fixed Mulder to his   
own with the sort of look that left nothing to the   
imagination. Mulder didn't even bother to lie to himself.   
Ten minutes after they got back to the hotel he damn well   
planned to be so far up Alex's ass the younger man would be   
able to taste it when he came. But he could try to play it   
cool.

"Get my attention."

The voice was warm with humor and husk, though the words   
were pure professionalism. "Exactly, Agent Mulder. Tell me,   
did I succeed?"

"I'd say that depends on how much "Michael" taught you,   
Agent Krycek."

//You nasty little fuck.//

Alex grinned at him. A perfect slash of white little G-Man   
goodness that felt positively obscene. "Wait and see. Wait   
and see."

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> The Coke line is courtesy of our own DB Kate, the title of Dreamerlea the Superkeen.


End file.
